Even though keeping my eyes open was getting harder by the second, sleep wouldn't come. Seconds dragged into minutes, then hours. Nala's hand rested warm on my chest, her breathing slow and steady. Jasmine had rolled away in her sleep, curled around a pillow like it was a lifeline.
I exhaled, slipped from the bed without waking them, and padded barefoot to the living room. The penthouse was dark, city lights bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows in streaks of neon. I grabbed my cigarettes from the dining table, lit one, and sank into the couch, rubbing my face as smoke curled toward the ceiling.
"Fuck…"
Stress gnawed at me. This Meridian thing was a noose—tightening every day. One wrong move and I'd lose everything: the job, the penthouse, the life I'd clawed my way into.
"Guy… just fuck off already."
I got up, grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped it open. Sat at the kitchen island, smoke still between my lips, and took a long drag followed by a cold swallow.
